Promise
by SeralynGrace
Summary: They were bound by secrecy. Ned named her Alys after a Lady Stark from long ago. Alys Snow has been fostered at Greywater Watch, protected from the whispers of her origin. After Ned Stark's execution, she and her foster siblings travel to Winterfell where Alys Snow finds herself thrown into the Game of Thrones.


**A**lys Snow, a girl of four and ten knew not what to feel. Her foster brother had just announced the death of her Lord father. Ned Stark was a man she knew mostly by word of mouth, a man who'd journey to Moat Cailin to spend a fortnight with her once every year. He'd bring along her solemn twin brother Jon and he'd bring her gifts, strange gifts. She sometimes thought they must be for someone else but even though she was baseborn she knew her curtsies. He was a Lord and they were not to be refused. When he hugged her goodbye, he held on tightly and she'd burry her face into the furs of his cloak. That was what she remembered now. The smell of the fur as it tickled her nose.

The crannogmen who she had grown up with tiptoed around her as if expecting her to fall apart at any moment. Only her foster sister dared break the uneasy isolation she'd been cast in. Meera was a little older than she was but nearly a foot shorter. Her green eyes searched Alys' face as she determinedly signed, _are you okay_?

A fever had stolen her voice some four years prior. She remembered only waking up and becoming crippled with hunger pains but no noise would come from her lips. No sounds, no moans. Absolute muteness. She could remember the Maester telling Lord Reed that mayhaps the fever had done damage to her brain. She could remember stomping her foot and tapping on the walls, trying to do anything to garner their attention. She was not lame of mind. She just could not speak. It was the most frustrating months of her life.

_I'm fine. _The moss vines that acted as a doorway to her bedchamber opened then. Howland and Jojen stood in the archway. Howland's eyes were puffy and bloodshot. Alys had never seen him look quite so distressed.

"Father has given us permission to travel to Winterfell to pledge our loyalty." Jojen announced sounding much older than his years. He had always spoken like that.

_Me as well? _Alys could not help but to ask. When she was a little girl she'd begged to be taken to Winterfell. She just wanted to see it once. Each of her requests were denied in kind or ignored until she learned to stop asking.

"Yes," Howland answered after a moment's consideration.

**G**ods help me, Howland Reed thought as he watched his children become silhouettes. Alys Snow had been the first babe he had ever held in a tower in Dorne. It had taken all of his remaining strength to climb up the winding stairs in search of his liege. The smell of life's blood engulfed his nostrils and he hesitantly entered the chamber. Ned was knelt beside the Lady Lyanna whose eyes were still open but her body was lifelessly still. In Ned's arms was a boy. Without asking the nursemaid had placed the girl infant in his arms. Unlike the boy, she was squalling. Her face was scrunched up and red. It was as if she could sense that her mother was gone.

Aemon Ned had croaked. Lyanna had named the boy Aemon. Howland knew then that Rhaegar was the father of the twins. The babe in his arms was pale with a tuff of dark hair atop her head. He held her closer to his chest, rocking slightly back and forth on his feet trying to not aggravate his own injuries. As he hushed her, her eyes opened. They were a lilac in color that contrasting the darkness of her hair.

Ned had renamed the boy Jon for Jon Arryn. He could not return North with an Aemon. He named the girl after a Lady Stark from long ago. Ned looked upon the girl's Targaryen eyes and all of the color in his cheeks faded away. The words came out of Howland's mouth before he could stop them. Why doesn't Alys come to foster at Greywater Watch? He had a daughter a few months older than she. She could be a handmaiden in name and a companion in truth.

He and Ned had become brothers bound by treason. They harbored two Targaryens in their households and not just any Targaryens, the rightful heir and his sister. Alys Snow had absolutely no clue. When asked, he told her he did not know who her mother was. That Lord Stark had never told him. He had contemplated telling her the truth for a week as they prepared. Each night he starred up at the thatched roof listening to churning tides. He was the only living person who knew the truth. He could not bring himself to tell her. Her ignorance, he reasoned, protected her.

He also debated keeping her within the confines of Greywater Watch. No Lords or Ladies who would've remembered that Lyanna had run off with Rhaegar or that a Stark had danced with Lady Dayne had ever chanced a sight of Alys. Not even Lord Eddard's wife had ever seen her. It was safer that way. The crannogmen were isolated. Sure, some wondered about her purple eyes but many still did not know the truth of the rebellion. They preferred not to know. It was this that prevented the whispers.

It was his son and his prophetic dreams that convinced Howland otherwise. Jojen told him that Alys was a skinchanger. Howland had only ever heard of them in tales. It was the crossbill that Jojen pointed out that convinced him of the truth. The crossbill had come around the time of Alys' illness. He could remember all of them watching it with fascination as they'd never seen a crossbill this far south. Its red feathers stood out against the mossy greens of the swamps. Jojen said when she was sick that Alys had skinchanged into that bird and had forgotten how to use her voice. It was the reason she had survived so long in a coma. And surely enough, Howland watched as the bird followed behind his children.

Howland could not help but to contemplate the color of the bird. Its redness reminded him of the Targaryen banner. Did some part of the girl suspect her parentage? She had more of the Prince's nature than her mother's. Howland had never made an acquaintance of the Prince but he knew that Rhaegar was noted for his somber nature and his love of reading. Alys was not somber. She was more reflective and cautious. Greywater Watch had a little library. He was sure she had read all of the tomes encompassed in the library.

Even her appearance reminded him more of the Prince than the Lady Lyanna though hair color and skin color was similar to the Starks. Her dark hair fell in delicate ringlets that framed an angular face. She was taller than her mother had ever been and she was lanky as the Prince had been. She was not an active child and only participated in hunting when it was necessary.

Ned had not known this. Each year for her birthday he'd gift her with something that Lyanna would've liked. Howland remembered fondly the bewildered look Alys gave him when at seven she was presented with a bow and arrow. The crannogmen preferred hunting by use of spear. The gifts quickly became Meera's. For an earlier nameday he'd arrived with a yearling. Alys ever wanting to please him, let him place her atop the saddle but she looked ready to faint at every odd gesture or noise the pony made. Alys had never ridden on a horse before that.

Ned was haunted by Lyanna's death. It broke Howland to remind him that this was _Alys_ not Lyanna. Each nameday since Ned would arrive with a tome from Winterfell's library for her.

"You could not keep her here forever." His wife whispered. Howland had not heard her appear and jumped at the sudden sound. They had never spoken about Alys' parents aloud. Howland could not bear to breath the treasonous words to her for fear if they were ever caught she could not plead innocence. "Lady Stark has gone from Winterfell. I hear one of the younger boys is acting lord-

"Bran." Howland had heard Jojen talking about Bran. About how he too had abilities. Of how he'd been crippled, a boy of ten.

"Bran," Jyena amended. "They'll be nice to her. She'll be alright."

**A/N: **To continue or to not?


End file.
